Progress

We’re driving east, averaging 80 miles per hour, past treeless yellow-green hills and skewed stacks of rocky outcrops on our way from Oregon to Idaho. It’s all so big that it seems like we’re barely moving. The estimated arrival time on the GPS confirms this feeling: 4 hours remain, 3 hours 58 minutes, 3 hours 55 minutes… I force myself not to look.

When I stop paying attention to progress, the trip changes. Twice we pass through the haze of smoke clouds from wildfires, one blossoming from a small valley of trees, unique in this dried out grassy landscape. We yell and laugh at cars that cut us off on this expansive road. We listen to local radio stations that are throwbacks to the mid-nineties and wonder how the hell we can be so young and so old.